


hypnotized by the whirl

by fromlaurelgroves



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:14:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26418523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromlaurelgroves/pseuds/fromlaurelgroves
Summary: This time, you didn’t hesitate before reaching for her, before pulling her down on top of you and crushing your mouth against hers the way you might have crushed flower petals between your fingers. You were tired of waiting.Cyth-as-Dulcinea and Gideon get busy.
Relationships: Cytherea the First/Gideon Nav, Gideon Nav/Dulcinea Septimus
Comments: 8
Kudos: 62





	hypnotized by the whirl

The day was bright and breezy, though not too breezy for you to occupy a lounge chair on one of the many terraces of Canaan House. You’d been there maybe half an hour, your neglected romance novel open downwards on your belly, listening to the crash of the waves on the cliffs below, when your favorite cavalier passed by the terrace door.

“Gideon!” you said with delight, and propped yourself on one elbow to wave frantically with the other hand. The girlish enthusiasm may have been put on, but your interest in the swordswoman was real. Those eyes had gotten your attention--those golden eyes whose terrible meaning, mysterious even to their owner, you’d known the moment you saw them. Plus the obvious usefulness of having a servant of the Ninth House in your thrall. But under that was a very animal appraisal you might have been embarrassed by if you hadn’t long outlived shame at this point. Simply, it was a pleasure to look at her--the broad shoulders, the warm brown skin. The pleasures in your long life had been very few. You had learned to take them as you could. 

The cavalier had turned obediently at your call, and was now beside you. She made to sit on the ground, and you tsked and made room on the chaise. She perched and looked at you shyly through those ridiculous shades.

“Well, Gideon,” you said, enunciating her name sweetly--you’d noticed that horrible little nun she was pledged to never used it--“are you talking today?”

The cavalier smiled a little, as if she couldn’t help herself, and cleared her throat. “If you want me to.”

You clapped your hands with joy. “Wonderful! What a privilege to get to hear the dulcet tones of the Ninth. I’m awfully happy you stopped by, I’m getting so terribly  _ bored _ out here.” You gestured to the stunning ocean view. “And I’ve read my novel twice already. I really didn’t bring enough reading material.”

The Ninth cavalier picked up your discarded, flimsy-back novel and examined it. “ _ Soldiers of the Heart _ ,” she read from the cover.

“It’s awfully predictable. Two Cohort cavs fall in love after they’re forced to duel each other, but the trouble is that their necromancers simply can’t bear to be in the same room with each other and forbid the match. Then the cavs have to go to all sorts of silly ends to make their necromancers fall in love--there’s a forged letter and a pair of stolen breeches--anyway, it all works out in the end.”

“Yeah,” said Gideon. “Don’t they eventually find their necros getting down to business in the engine room? And it ends with a double--” She cut herself off suddenly, and blushed under her paint.

“A double wedding, yes,” you beamed. “You’ve read it?”

“Sort of. A-- version of it. I think some of the details were changed.” 

" _ Lovely _ . I did enjoy it, even if the plot was a bit trite. That absolutely wonderful scene with the kiss on the observation deck--lit only by the dim light of the imploding thanergy flare--I nearly cried. So awfully romantic.”

The Ninth was still blushing. “I don’t remember that bit.”

You gasped and snatched the book from her. Once you’d flipped through to find the page you wanted, you handed it back, letting your fingers brush hers. “Second paragraph.”

You’d hoped she would read aloud, but she studied the page in silence, lips moving almost imperceptibly. You took the opportunity to drink her in. Her robe was askew over one shoulder, revealing a sleeveless high-necked black shirt and a gorgeous bicep. You could tell from the cut of her jaw that she was handsome under the hideous paint. Her frame was almost boyish, because of all the lean muscle, but her hips and chest gently asserted themselves through the endless layers of black. And her face when she looked up at you--

She whistled. “You weren’t kidding.”

“Isn’t that  _ marvellous _ ,” you said, once you’d cleared your head of raging cavalier-lust and remembered what the conversation had been about. “There really is nothing like a good romance-novel kiss. I don’t think they make them like that in real life. I’ve certainly never had a kiss quite that good. Have you?”

This last question was tossed off casually, but designed to completely annihilate the other girl’s composure. You saw with no little satisfaction that it had succeeded. Gideon struggled wordlessly for several seconds, then simply said, “No.”

“Have you ever been kissed at  _ all _ , Gideon the Ninth?” you said gently.

There was a pause. Then-- “There wasn’t much opportunity for it,” she answered.

“Now  _ that _ ,” you said, with the all solemn portentousness you could muster, “is a shame.”

Your eyes met. The shades were slipping down on her face. With a little effort, you pushed your upper body forward and brought your face very close to hers. You used one finger to push the sunglasses up the bridge of her nose. Then you kissed her.

When she got over the initial shock, Gideon kissed you back. She was inexpert, but a quick study. She paid attention to the pace and pressure that you gave her--slow, not too hard--and gave it right back. When you opened your mouth under hers like an unfurling flower, she obediently nudged her tongue inside, and you rewarded her by scootching closer on the chaise and wrapping your arms around those delicious shoulders. She put a hand at the small of your back, as much to prop you up as to pull you closer, and you leaned into her with a hard, hungry pleasure.

When you finally broke apart you found that your heart was going very fast and it was hard to get your breath. You turned your necromancy briefly inwards, trying to stabilize yourself, but couldn’t stop a short fit of coughing. When you managed to get a good pull of air again Gideon was looking quite concerned. You steadied yourself on her shoulder and looked up at her through your lashes. “Will you help me back to my room?”

In a perfect world, you would have made Gideon the Ninth bridal-carry you all the way back to the Seventh rooms. However, you thought that might attract a little too much attention should you encounter anyone, so you settled for leaning on her heavily, one arm thrown across those glorious shoulders. You did make her carry you up the marble staircase, though, which was fantastic. Once back in your room, you settled yourself on the bed and were focusing on arranging yourself attractively on the pillows when you noticed that Gideon was hovering by the door.

“You’re not leaving, are you?”

“Do you want me to stay?”

You gave the best eyelash bat you possibly could, said, “ _ Awfully _ much,” and patted the bed next to you.

For the second time that day, Gideon instantly and obediently came to your side. She sat timidly, as if afraid to disturb the bedspread. This time, you didn’t hesitate before reaching for her, before pulling her down on top of you and crushing your mouth against hers the way you might have crushed flower petals between your fingers. You were tired of waiting.

This, it turned out, had been worth waiting for. Gideon kissed you like it was her religion. She was so much bigger than you, and you loved the weight of her pinning you to the bed, though she was trying to hold herself so as not to crush you. You kissed her hard now, pushing your tongue into her mouth and letting out a little moan when her tongue brushed against it, sending electricity all the way to the pit of your stomach. You found that your hips were canting up to press against hers, and your frothy seafoam dress was riding up a little on your thighs.

The Ninth cavalier kissed you silently, as if she were focusing very seriously on doing it correctly. She was carefully keeping her weight on her elbows to keep from collapsing onto your ribcage. Her hands rested very respectfully at your waist and did not try to go anywhere, which was frustrating. You slid one hand under that sleeveless black shirt and let your fingertips ghost across her abs, and her grunt of pleasure made your clit see stars. You slid the hand up further, to where her breasts were being tightly restrained by some sort of elastic fabric. She reared back and stared at you, panting a little.

“Too much?” you said apologetically “I don’t mean to go too quickly for you--we can always stop if you--”

“No,” she said immediately, then “Can I--touch you?”

You almost purred. You took one of those big, callused hands in both of yours and pressed it to cup one of your breasts. She palmed it, shyly at first and then more confidently, and you felt a stab in your clit when her thumb brushed your nipple. You sat up a little on the pillows and tugged at the neckline of your dress, wriggling the swathes of lace over your thin shoulders until it bunched around your waist. Your small breasts stood exposed, nipples stiffening at the shock of air.

Gideon took the hint and reached for you. She got both hands involved, rolling each of your nipples between strong fingers, and the sharp tug set off a chain reaction of fireworks throughout your body. You pulled her down to kiss you again, your hands on her jaw smearing her paint, and you cried out helplessly again and again into her mouth as the arousal burned inside you. 

Just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, Gideon gently removed one hand from your breast and placed it on your bare thigh. She stroked you a little, and you shuddered against her.

“Is this all right?” she whispered, as if frightened, and you nodded hard.

She moved her hand up a little and tugged at your underwear. You squirmed out of them so that she could pull them down all the way, idly thinking that next time you’d make her do it with her teeth. Your breath was ragged and the tension in your body was almost unbearable as she extended an index finger and--petted at your folds like a kitten.

“Gideon,” you said, your nails biting hard into her bicep, “I don’t like to wait.”

It was  _ your  _ voice that came out then, your real voice, not the musical falsetto register you’d been doing your best to stay in. Torn out of you in your haze of lust and frustration, it was almost a growl. For a split second you thought Gideon would startle and call the whole thing off. But--loyal little thing that she was--she immediately pressed her fingers against your clit, and you bit back a howl. She rubbed you inexpertly, but you were so worked up it hardly mattered--all that mattered was that her fingers were strong, and warm, and you could grind hard against them while your body filled up with heat.

You opened your eyes to see that she was staring at you reverently while she traced your clit in spirals of pleasure. You reached up to cup her cheek with one hand, the one that wasn’t fisted in the sheets, and she murmured, “Dulcinea,” and then “Dulcie,” keeping her eyes on you to see how you’d react to the name. You beamed, and she looked relieved. “I want to make you feel so good, Dulcie, I want to do it just right for you.”

“Gideon the Ninth,” you said, struggling to keep your voice steady, “ _ fuck _ me.” Her golden eyes went wide with panic. “With your fingers, darling.”

The  _ darling _ melted her fear. She gingerly took her fingers from your clit--you hissed--and eased one inside you. It filled you up easily. Her fingers were very big, and you were not.

You realized she did not know what to do next. Such a virgin, this little cavalier--a bright, swaggering, glorious baby. You rested the back of one hand on the pillow by your head and said, “Like this,” quirking the fingers as if shaping air quotes.

Obediently, she curled her finger inside you and your moans were coming in your old voice now, low and animal-like and completely out of your control. Your hips bucked against her and the two of you found a rhythm, her rocking her hand into you, you grinding down hard on her wrist, fucking yourself on her. You were wet, very wet, and Gideon slid beautifully inside you. You demanded another finger.

“Are you sure?” the other girl asked, and at your emphatic “ _ Yes” _ obediently worked another long finger into your throbbing cunt. You wailed a little at the way she was stretching you out, each thrust vibrating through your bones like an asteroid impact, and murmuring “Dulcie, Dulcie--”

You shook. Your cunt spasmed hard around her hand as your orgasm tore through you, and you sobbed as you crested. Then you were still. Gideon extricated her fingers from you as gently as a whisper, and then she was still also, waiting for you to tell her what to do next. You loved that about cavaliers. They understood duty.

After a moment you opened your eyes and looked lazily up at her. You beckoned her close for a kiss, soft, close-mouthed. “Very nicely done, Gideon,” you said, and her cheeks flamed with pleasure. Another thing about cavaliers is they loved praise.

“You’re so soft,” she said. “I mean--inside. Like velvet.”

You kissed her again, then took one of her hands in yours--the hand she had used to fuck you. It was still wet, the fingers slick with you all the way to the knuckle. You brought it to your mouth and lapped at the fingertips.

“Oh, fuck,” said Gideon.

You swirled your tongue around those fingertips, flickered it in between them. The Ninth’s pupils were blown as wide and black as space, and she wasn’t breathing. You took her fingers into your mouth--to the first knuckle-bone, and the second, and then the third, until you were swallowing her, drinking the mild, salty taste of yourself. You bobbed your head as you worked your tongue up and down the long shaft of her fingers, and Gideon was gasping. Your gag reflex was almost getting in the way, so you got rid of it, and sucked her fingers all the way to the back of your throat. Gideon was swearing fluently. 

Once you were satisfied she was clean, you lifted your mouth from her hand. You kissed those calloused fingertips, then grabbed her neck and pulled her in to kiss her deeply, her mouth yielding to your tongue as she tasted you. 

You broke the kiss and surveyed the situation. The Ninth, although flushed and trembling a little against you after what you’d just done to her, was still fully clothed. You were almost entirely naked, except for the dress bunched unbecomingly around your waist. Neither of these things would do. 

You slid the dress off so that you were totally bare. You let the other woman’s eyes roam over you, take you in, aware of what a vision you must be to this beauty-starved Ninth nunlet. Then you crept into her lap and kissed her again. Her arms went around your waist and you pulled her close. You slid your hands down her sides and into the waistband of her pants, and you breathed, “May I?”

Gideon the Ninth said “Yes--yes, fuck, please.”

You pulled the long black pants off over her legs. Her thighs and calves were just as muscular as her arms, you noted approvingly, and red hair curled over the pale brown skin. You put your hands on her shoulders and she lay back before you could even press. It was eagerness, but also it was an ability to anticipate your needs, to meet them before you could even express them--another mark of a good cavalier.

You were straddling her now, your hips on top of hers. You leaned forward to kiss her again. Your curls fell in a curtain around your faces, shutting out the rest of the world. Her mouth opened under yours, and her hips pressed up into you. You ground down against them, and a low moan escaped her mouth as the two of you rocked together.

You slid a hand under her shirt, moaning a little yourself as you stroked those glorious abs, and she tensed. You soothed her with more kisses, littering them over her jaw and neck. She hissed when you set your teeth gently to her collarbone. You moved your hand back down, following the trail of rough hair that went from her navel to the waistband of her underwear. You put your fingertips inside that waistband, and looked for permission.

“Yes--oh, God,” Gideon said.

She was quite flushed and, when you put your hand down further, quite wet. She was a confusion of slickness and hair and muscular thighs. It was easy to find her clit, swollen and huge with her arousal. You stroked it, and she bucked so hard the bed made an ominous sound.

“You’re so sensitive, Gideon,” you said into her neck. Her skin tasted of sweat and the faint, chemical sour of paint. She could barely respond--she was panting, guttural, as you circled her clit with your fingers. When you dipped your fingertips into her slit to wet them with her, then dragged them back up to rub her clit again, harder this time, she was producing a low and shaky but unbroken wail, and you knew she was on the brink of coming.

“Will you do something for me, darling?” you asked, and even in her state of agonized ecstasy she nodded. “Sweet Gideon--say my name when you finish. Can you do that for me?”

As if in response, her strong thighs seized around you, trapping your wrist. You pressed hard into her, and felt an answering gush of fluid as she began to shake. Her hands found your shoulders, and she gripped you tight while choking out “Dulcie--Dulcie--”

As you looked down at the cavalier, her eyes half-closed, her heartbeat slowing to normal, you realized you were disappointed. Though you knew it was impossible, somehow you’d hoped to hear her say your true name.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from [this](https://youtu.be/Th7QmZiz6Lc), the ultimate Cytherea song


End file.
